I love love love working in earthy, malleable, expressive, slurpy, yummy clay. Whether in the freedom of hand-building, or the zen serenity of the wheel. I studied raku, gas, pit, and salt firings at the Portland School of Arts and Crafts, and had a one-woman show of Raku masks in the Hawthorn district of Portland.
shall we have another poem
Warrior’s cry
There is a scream being birthed in my chest
A battle cry
Pressuring up into my throat
Nascent
It wakens me at night
It breaks my focus at day
I feel my hair catch fire
My nostrils throw forth smoke
The air around me electrifies
One day soon
One hour
My cry will be heard
Powerfully
Inviolably
The female warrior’s cry for
Sovereign Intergrity